


our last breaths while the sky falls

by hazelhyucks



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Asteroid Collision, Business Workers Renjun & Haechan, Coming of Age, End of the World, Exes, M/M, Underage Smoking, high school band, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:14:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26206255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelhyucks/pseuds/hazelhyucks
Summary: Seven boys, separated in high school, reunite for the first time in eight years to spend the last minutes of their lives together, and perform one last song as a band while the sky comes crashing down.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun & Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Mark Lee & Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	our last breaths while the sky falls

**Author's Note:**

> Please pay important attention to date and time stamps as well as the text format! Italicized text are flashbacks while normal text are in present time!

  * AUGUST 6TH, 2020 ⌜01:06 AM⌟



**_“We interrupt this program for a very urgent and important announcement. You are strongly advised to enlighten everyone you know and see about this information…”_ **

Jeno remembers those days back in high school. Of course he does. They were the happiest years of his life.

The memories of high school are so valuable and fragile to him. Maybe it’s because they seemed so perfect. 

That was when the seven of them were still together. Jeno loved each and every one of them very much – all in different, unique ways. 

Jeno remembers the late nights getting drunk in Donghyuck’s garage and gathering for band practices in Chenle’s basement. 

Jeno remembers cruising through the neighbourhood in Renjun's older brother’s pickup truck, r&b music blasting through the speakers and burning cigarettes hanging from between their fingers. 

All such precious memories; none Jeno wants to forget. 

None Jeno will _ever_ want to forget, even if the world ends.

**_“…A sudden, unforeseen asteroid is currently hurtling right towards our planet. Scientists predict that we have approximately twenty-four hours, one day left to live. They claim that this enormous asteroid will wipe every livi…”_ **

The drone of the newscaster’s voice blurs out and turns obscure as Jeno’s mind wanders off into his own thoughts.

Twenty-four hours. Jeno and everyone else on Earth have twenty-hours left to live.

<>

8 HOURS EARLIER

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Yes, sir? What do you need me for, sir?”

“Lee, I’ve finished signing the papers proposed today, but I’m suddenly needed in this emergency meeting. So would you please fetch them in my office and hand them over to Huang Renjun in the accounting and finance department? They’re on my desk.”

Donghyuck aggressively grits his teeth; he can feel his blood boil at the mention of that name. His left fist that is unoccupied by the telephone has unconsciously fisted into a ball so forcefully his knuckles have turned white.

“Lee? Assistant Lee, are you there?”

“A-Ah Yes, sir. I will bring it to him immediately,” Donghyuck quickly replies to his boss.

“Okay. Thank you, Donghyuck.”

“No problem, sir.”

Donghyuck puts the phone down and sits there for a while. 

In his head, he’s thinking of how he is going to approach the detestable male.

Donghyuck lets out a frustrated sigh before picking himself up and heading to his boss’s office to collect the papers.

Just as he said, they are on his desk and the brunette quickly grabs them and then makes his way to the accounting and finance department in the upper floor.

On the way there, Donghyuck can’t help but vigorously tap his foot on the elevator and continuously abuse his lower lip with his teeth, biting on them in restlessness.

When he does arrive in front of the Chinese’s office, he stands there for a while, mentally preparing himself for the monster at the other side of the door.

Donghyuck twists the door knob and pushes his way in.

A surprised voice greets him. “Donghyuck?” 

Said male ignores him and only speaks when he’s reached the man’s table. “CEO Kim has finished signing the papers introduced today and asked me to deliver them to you.”

“Oh, Okay. Thank you, Donghyuck.” 

The brunette doesn’t wait for the other to finish talking before turning around to leave.

He’s at the door and almost out of it when the Chinese male speaks up again. 

“Donghyuck?”

Goddamnit. 

Why did he have to say his name so gently like that?

“What?” The brunette jerks his head around and snaps as he glares at the Chinese.

He instantly whips his head back when he meets eyes with the latter’s. 

They’re too manipulative. Intentional or not – he doesn’t care.

“I just wanted to...h-how are you doing, Donghyuck? We haven’t talked in a while. How is your day going?”

Donghyuck releases a despairing sigh dazedly staring into the wood of the office door. “It’s because you don’t get to know anymore.”

“What?” The blonde-haired breathily utters.

Donghyuck sighs once again, this time even more depressing, casting a glance over his shoulder at the other man. 

Coldly, he firmly voices out, “You don’t get to know how my day went anymore, Renjun.”

“Donghyuck, I-”

The brunette doesn’t tolerate any more of it, opening the door and leaving the room before he can catch what Renjun has to say.

Donghyuck really wishes that out of the seven of them, it was someone else he’s stuck with except Renjun. He really wishes it isn’t Renjun who he has to go to work with and see everyday. 

He would rather choose the older to be the one he hasn’t met and contacted in eight years. 

He really would. 

<>

_The door slightly opens at the nudge of Renjun’s foot; the Chinese boy enters the room holding a hot bowl of soup. “I made you your favourite soup, Donghyuckie.”_

_But the brunette just cries even harder, thick droplets of tears rolling down his face and onto Renjun’s bed sheets._

_“Baby!” The older teenager rapidly puts down the bowl on his study desk, not caring when it sloshes over and out the side because of the impact and dirties his table._

_Renjun hurriedly makes his way to the boy sitting on his bed, looking down at him while cupping his cheeks. “Baby love, you okay? Do you want the soup, Hyuck?”_

_The older male returns to the bowl on his desk to lift it and head back to Donghyuck._

_He scoops a mouthful and brings it to the other’s lips, but the brunette protests, eyes fixed on the ground and fingers fiddling together._

_“I-I don’t w-want to drink i-it,” he says through hiccups and his endless tears._

_“Okay then. You don’t have to, Hyuckie.”_

_Donghyuck releases another sob._

_Renjun is too nice for his own good._

_Here he is, comforting Donghyuck and making him his favourite soup and not even getting the slightest bit mad when he doesn’t drink it._

_Even when he has an important biology exam tomorrow, Renjun is here, looking after a bawling mess of a seventeen-year-old Lee Donghyuck._

_“Baby...” Renjun murmurs._

_He places the bowl of soup back on his desk before coming back to his boyfriend once again._

_“Hyuck, is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Hmm, angel?”_

_Donghyuck gazes up at the older through his glassy eyes, hair an absolute mess and face wet with tears._

_“H-Hold m-me?” he hiccups._

_“Of course,” Renjun responds and drops down onto his bed, laying the both of them down into a comfortable position with the younger securely clasped between his arms._

_Renjun runs a hand through the latter’s hair and massages his scalp to try to soothe him and get him to stop weeping._

_“I’m so sorry that had to happen to your dad, Hyuck,” the Chinese sincerely says._

_Donghyuck whimpers. “I can’t believe it just h-happened l-like that. He had always been a safe driver. I-I can’t believe s-someone crashed i-into him. R-Renju-”_

_“Shhh. Baby, I got you.”_

_Renjun rubs his palm in circles on the younger’s back and presses two kisses on the top of his head._

_“I f-feel so s-scared,” Donghyuck cries, wetting Renjun’s shirt._

_“Hey, no. You’re safe with me, darling. Alright? I love you.”_

_The younger boy hums, however his body still shakes from his sobs and hiccups._

_Renjun pulls the latter’s head from his shoulder._

_And with his face in his hands, with his whole world between his palms, he wipes Donghyuck’s tears away with his thumbs and mutters, “How is that even when you’re crying, you’re still the most beautiful boy in the world?”_

“Lee, can you call Manager Ahn for me and inform her that meeting room 1C is now available?”

All of Donghyuck’s thoughts come crashing down at that moment. 

He’s harshly reminded of the environment he’s presently in.

“Yes, sir. I will do so immediately.”

Donghyuck picks up the telephone, puts the device to his ear, presses a few numbers, then drifts off into his memories again as the sound of the phone's ringing gets lost somewhere in his senses.

But the memories don’t matter anymore; none of them matter anymore. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.

Because Donghyuck is no longer the most beautiful boy in Renjun's world. Because Huang Renjun no longer loves Lee Donghyuck.

<>

The sun hovers halfway in the sky, bathing in between the fluffy clouds and the pink and orange hues. 

Today’s sunset spills itself across the wide sky in front of Jisung’s eyes as he walks back home from his part time job at a cafe, the soft pastel colors blending together to create a pleasing and pretty sight.

Taking in the view before him, Jisung is reminded of his highschool days. And he's reminded of the seven of _them_. 

The brunette remembers teenager them stumbling out of the basement every weekend after sweaty band practices to climb up to the roof and smoke cigarettes while watching the sunset.

And Jisung remembers Chenle.

Jisung wonders how Chenle is doing. 

He misses the older. He hasn’t seen him since forever. He misses doing everything with the Chinese male. 

He misses everything about them. 

But at the end of the day, Jisung knows long distance doesn’t work. 

He hopes the older isn’t too hung up on him. He hopes Chenle is happy eight thousand kilometres, an ocean, away from him.

<>

PRESENT TIME

  * AUGUST 6TH, 2020 ⌜01:29 AM⌟



The airport is packed with many people rushing back and forth – the whole place in total disarray and chaos.

Jisung is one of them, running about with only a backpack. He didn’t bother to bring much stuff; he just threw in the necessities he thought are crucial. 

Neither did he have the time to; the twenty-four hours are ticking away.

Does Jisung regret breaking his promise with Chenle, cutting off all contact with him once he left for college to Canada? Jisung doesn’t know if he can answer that question.

Many airlines have offered free flights for everyone, putting all of their aircrafts to use to transport people wherever they wish on the last day of their lives.

Jisung rapidly dashes to the international flights department, where people are making a commotion yelling out the places they want to go to the distressed workers.

Jisung kind of feels bad for them, but he can’t waste anymore time.

He musters up all his strength and yells at the top of his lungs, “Canada! Canada! A flight to Canada?” 

One of the staff instantly notices the young man and responds over the tumult, “A flight to Canada is available in gate F-12, sir! Gate F-12! The aircraft’s about to leave!”

Jisung begins sprinting. It’s the fastest he’s ever run in his lifetime. 

Up the escalators, he takes three steps at a time.

Then off he goes, dodging and sliding in between people as he runs past gate after gate. 

He’s jumping over bags and luggage and occasionally bumping into a person or two, absentmindedly shouting, “Sorry! Sorry!”, but never once stopping.

The man is exhaustedly out of breath and is about to collapse when he reaches gate F-11.

‘One more. Only one more,’ Jisung silently encourages himself as he pushes his sore feet to keep moving.

Jisung swerves and stumbles into the open gate, speedily making his way down to where he hopes the airplane is still waiting.

He catches sight of the white aircraft door being adjusted and he panickedly screams, “Wait! Wait!”

The woman who is about to close the door makes eye contact with Jisung, and then pushes and reopens the hatch.

“Quick. We’re about to depart.”

The man trips into the plane.

“Hurry up and go find yourself a seat before we take off, sir.”

The brunette obeys and staggers down the aisle; he spots an empty seat and quickly slides into it.

When he's clumsily buckling himself up, he hears a mic being tapped in the vehicle’s speakers.

The captain who speaks rushes his words, rambling no longer a script, but what he thinks is important information. “Greetings, passengers. This is your captain speaking. I’d like to apologise for this will be your most uncomfortable flight you’ll ever experience. We’re speeding up and cutting the flight from eleven hours to six hours from South Korea to Canada. We will hopefully have a safe flight.”

God, Jisung is really spending six hours out of the twenty four hours of his time left on Earth on an airplane for the love of his life, Zhong Chenle, who he hasn’t seen in eight years.

Jisung tilts his cellphone in his hand and it lights up, displaying the lockscreen.

‘223 RoseDale Valley Road

Toronto, ST 489267’ is printed in white text against a black background.

He’ll finally be able to make use of the given address. Fuck, Jisung will finally be able to visit him. 

“My passengers, on a night like this, sit back, relax and enjoy the rest of the flight.” 

The airplane lights dim and the vehicle lurches forward. They take off.

<>

Renjun sits in the dark of his living room, staring off into his glowing television that is currently showing and sounding static after the announcement of the upcoming asteroid collision.

He’s been motionlessly resting there for about half an hour now, the overwhelming news not really having sunken into him yet.

The strong rain patters down loudly onto his roof.

The mellow lustre of his porchlight filters into the dim room through a window to his left, while the milky moonlight spills in from another window to his right, painting Renjun’s face yellow, white, and grey – from the television screen before him.

Renjun finally moves, turning his head to look out the window. 

It is _really_ pouring down. 

It feels weird, he decides. Renjun, and also a big portion of the whole population have seen and read occurrences like this happen in movies and books. 

And the man expects himself to be panicked if one day, it _does_ happen, mind in a whirl and having absolutely no idea on what to do.

But now it has become a reality, yet Renjun’s serene.

Renjun feels calm, _way_ too calm knowing it’s the end of the world.

Several rushed knocks resonate from the front door to Renjun’s left.

The Chinese male doesn’t bother to think about it when he stands up from the couch and makes his way to the wooden door.

What Renjun finds on his doorstep at one am in the morning is a soaked and shivering Lee Donghyuck.

“Donghyuck?” 

“Renjun! Huang Renjun, you fucking asshole!” the man sobs out, and it’s only then he notices the other is crying, tears almost unnoticeable, camouflaged with the raindrops adorning his face.

Donghyuck throws himself into the older’s arms, and Renjun accepts him like they're eighteen again.

“Oh, Donghyuck.” And again, his voice is the most tender and delicate, as if his name might break on his tongue if he says it too harshly, as if the name’s a precious treasure to be stored away from everybody else’s ears.

“I hate you so much!” Donghyuck screams, bawling his eyes out, “I hate you so fucking much!” 

The younger tightens his grip on the Chinese male.

Renjun rests his check on the other’s wet temple, uncaring of getting drenched as well. 

Through Donghyuck’s wailing, they relish in being wrapped around each other’s arms. 

None of them care about the sticky dampness between them. It doesn’t matter when Donghyuck hasn’t held Renjun in eight years.

“I-I missed y-your arms,” the younger hiccups and stutters out into the man’s ear.

“I missed _you_ , Donghyuck.”

“I’ve never stopped loving you, you know?” the brunette whispers, and Renjun can feel his shirt and shoulder getting wet from the man's tears.

“Never?” the older quietly responds.

“Never. Not a second through these eight years have I stopped loving you.” 

“Donghyuck, darling, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he softens and shifts, trying to move into his house and get the younger some fresh new clothes maybe.

But the latter misunderstands and clings tighter onto the Chinese male in desperation, starting to sob again. “No! Renjun! P-Please! Don’t go; don’t l-leave me again. Please, let me have y-you for one night. Only one n-night, Renjun! Please!”

“Oh no. No, no.” Renjun hugs the younger closer. “You have me till my last breath, sweetheart.”

Donghyuck buries his face into Renjun’s neck and takes in the nostalgic scent. Meanwhile, his tears haven’t stopped, still uncontrollably flowing from his eyes down his pretty face.

“I’ve never stopped loving you either, Donghyuck.”

The brunette raises his head, looking into the older’s orbs.

With puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, he stutters, “Renjun. What? B-But you sai-”

“I know, Hyuck. I said I had fallen out of love. But everything felt terribly wrong after you left. Maybe I just wanted some space at that time. I was extremely stressed beginning college, and everything felt suffocating, Donghyuck. And at one point, our love _did_ feel suffocating. But then I realised we were worth being suffocated for. Donghyuck, we were worth so much more. I just needed some time and space...I still loved you. I still _love_ you.”

“Then w-why didn’t you t-tell me, idiot?” Donghyuck senses a new batch of tears form in his eyes, blurring Renjun’s face from his vision.

“Because there was a big chance that you were the one who had fallen out of love this time, Donghyuck.”

The younger releases a broken sob and pulls Renjun in closer for another hug, placing his chin on the latter's shoulder and letting his tears cascade down his porcelain cheeks.

“H-How could I, Renjun? I...ugh. We should've talked. I sh-should've let you talk to me. I’m so sorry,” Donghyuck whimpers.

“It’s not your fault, Donghyuckie. Don’t be sorry.”

But the younger just cries even harder and louder, his wails blending in with the drumming of the rain.

He guesses some things really don’t change. 

Donghyuck's voice is muffled into the older's shoulder when he mutters weakly, “You’re too n-nice. You're too nice for y-your own good, Renjun.”

Said man pulls the younger's head from his chest to look at him. He brings both hands up to the brunette’s face and wipes every single teardrop that trickles down his face with the pads of his thumbs. 

Looking into Donghyuck’s sparkling irises, he mutters, “How is that even when you’re crying, you’re still the most beautiful boy in the world?”

And Donghyuck completely breaks down again.

<>

  * AUGUST 6TH, 2020 ⌜05:44 AM⌟



When Renjun wakes up, it’s in the familiar arms of his lover, warm and safe.

The older happily plants a kiss on Donghyuck’s head, and the latter wakes up not too soon after, eyes softly fluttering awake.

“Good morning, love.”

Donghyuck hums raspily in response; with half-lidded eyes, he turns around, then chases for Renjun’s arm to wrap around his waist and move closer, his back now pressing against the older’s chest.

Donghyuck looks out the window at the dark gray clouds circling the city, lingering in the gloomy morning blanket. 

The sun lazily levitates in the dingy sky, as if it too knows there won’t be much time left, glum from this fact.

“I can’t believe we’re all just going to...die like this,” the brunette whispers out.

Renjun presses a soft kiss on the back of his head in hopes of comforting him.

Donghyuck shakily breathes out, "W-What will happen when the sky starts falling?” 

“Donghyuck, _angel_ , nothing would change,” Renjun takes the the younger's face in his hands and turns him away from where he’s staring out the window, crooning at him to calm him down, “because the sky,” Renjun uses his thumbs to swipe under the younger’s orbs, “is already right here," the blonde-haired man peppers a line of kisses from Donghyuck's forehead, then along the curve of his nose, "so as long as you’re with me, Hyuck, the stars are still intact, the sky is still standing, and my world isn’t ending.” He tenderly places a last peck on the other’s lips.

Donghyuck smiles tiredly, but happily.

“We wasted so much time,” Donghyuck murmurs, fully rotating around and wrapping his arms around the Chinese’s body, nuzzling his face into his neck.

“So many days,” Renjun whispers back.

“So many minutes.” 

“So many seconds,” he replies.

“So many breaths.”

“Not enough kisses.”

The honey-haired man plants a long but gentle kiss on the older's lips.

“You know,” Renjun says, burying himself into the latter’s hair, “It’s a shame really, that the world’s ending, because I feel like my world just started. It’s a pity because I feel like I’ve just started living again.”

The younger looks up at the other. “Hmm? What do you mean? Since when?”

He smiles. “Since last night. When you showed up at my door, I started living again.”

<>

Chenle stumbles forward after hearing the ring of his doorbell.

Who is it that wants to see him this early in the morning? 

He has spent three hours crying in his mother’s arms before returning back home and crying three more hours laying alone on his bed. And he knows it’s not the cleverest thing – probably the dumbest decision to be made – when the minutes are slipping away like sand right through his fingers.

But he can’t help it. Chenle is overly emotional and sensitive; always has been. He still can’t process that his and everyone else’s lives will come tumbling down in a matter of eighteen hours.

What has everything come to?

Chenle assumes it's one of his colleagues at the door who's kind and caring enough to travel all the way down to his house and greet him their last goodbye.

But he’s proven wrong when he unlatches the door and swings it open, only to be met with a painfully familiar face – one that makes his heart jump, yet twist at the same time. 

A face that hurts _too_ much.

Chenle’s eyes widen as his jaw drops and his heart skips three beats. 

It’s silent for three seconds.

“J-Jisung?” he whispers, voice soft and barely audible.

“Chenle,” the brunette breathes out.

“Jisung,” he says again, voice high-pitched and shaking, about to crack.

The older brings a trembling hand up to the man's face, lightly grazing his cheek with his fingertips, as if to confirm he’s actually here before him.

Chenle takes a look at Jisung. God, he’s grown so much. 

There are little traces of 16-year-old Jisung in 24-year-old Jisung, lightly dotting his facial features.

And Chenle realises they both had grown up. It was inevitable. 

They both had to grow up – with or without each other.

The next time Chenle says Jisung’s name again, he does it with a sob. “J-Jisung.”

The brunette doesn’t say anything, just takes the older man into his arms, holding him as he cries into his shoulder at the doorway.

“Jisung, what are you doing here?”

“I missed you, Chenle.”

“But you never replied to my texts or calls when you _promised_ to!”

“Oh God, Chenle. I know. I’m sor-”

“I didn't hear from you for eight years! You acted like I wasn’t a part of your life anymore! You made it seem like you didn’t love me anymore! Jisung, you made it seem like we were strangers!” Chenle’s voice is vulnerable spilling out the heart-wrenching words.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Chenle.”

“I m-missed you, t-too, Ji,” Chenle hiccups through his tears.

“Can I...can I kiss you?”

The older responds by pressing their lips together. 

Jisung tastes like nostalgia. 

His lips feel the same – chapped and soft and smoothly colliding.

Chenle is suddenly yanked back – to those days they made out for hours on end in the older's garden, hiding in between the golden marigolds and magenta rhododendrons.

Those were such simpler times. When they had nothing to worry about.

When all that mattered was that Chenle was a boy who loved Jisung, and Jisung was a boy that loved him back.

When they pull away for air, Jisung rests their foreheads together.

Chenle looks at the latter, and he can see that same sparkle, just like it was eight years ago, in those irises.

And into his lips, he whispers, “I love you.”

<>

**You have a new message!**

**【 Seven Hearts and a Dream 】**

September 11, 2012 1:03 pm

**leleeeee :)**

Okay, see you guys there!

August 6, 2020 6:02 am

**Injun!🦊**

Hey, guys

uhm it's been so long, so you might've all changed your numbers,

but this was my only contact information

If you see this

Of course it’s okay if you don’t want to…

I wouldn't want to waste your time if you'd rather spend it doing something else 

But...do you guys wanna meet up?

<>

  * AUGUST 6TH, 2020 ⌜09:59 AM⌟



Jeno wipes his timberland boots on the doormat before trudging into the building.

There is no longer a man sitting at the front desk. Instead, workers in white uniforms are rushing about in a chaotic manner, some flicking through files and some aggressively scribbling down notes, shouting at one another across the perimeter.

Luckily, Jeno knows the way in here; and the staff don’t seem to mind when he strides across the area, through the hallway on the left, and into a room unescorted. 

The room is noisy and packed with people. When Jeno steps in, an employee is about to exit, and the ravenette briskly catches the man’s arm in his fingers.

He whips his head towards the young man. “May I help you, sir?”

Jeno removes his hand. “Yes. I’m a visitor; I’d like to see Inmate Mark Lee, please.”

“Okay, please take a seat over there, sir. I’ll have them out in a minute.” The officer gestures to an empty chair in between tumultuous outsiders who are all speaking to the prisoners on the other side of the glass in quite distressed manners.

Jeno flumps down onto the metal chair and unconsciously fiddles with his fingers while waiting.

He easily blocks out all the exclaiming sounds coming from the other visitors, soaking into his blank and empty thoughts instead. 

Jeno realises it would be so easy to lose himself, even more easier to lose the world.

Two strikes on the glass before him wakes him from his stupor. Jeno glances up to be met with a warmly smiling, and now older Mark.

This time, he isn’t wearing the orange uniform of the prisoners, but is dressed in a white button down and slacks.

The man extends his hand to clasp it around the telephone and bring it to his ear. “Mark.” 

“Jeno. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “Four years is a long time.”

“It is. How have you been doing, Jeno?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing fine.”

“That’s good to hear.” The older man pulls a sleeve up to his elbow. “They’re letting me out soon.”

The ravenette lifts an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Hmm. Prisoners who are deemed holding only minor crimes are going to be released today.”

“Okay. That’s great. Mark?”

“Yeah?”

Jeno sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Why did you do it, Mark?”

“Hmm?” the older man looks into the ravenette's eyes with fake oblivion. 

“Why did you sell drugs? Why did you do it?”

Mark lets out a doleful breath and stares at the younger man with a slight frown on his face. 

It's a while before he answers, “I didn’t have money, Jeno. I wanted to go to the same university as you guys, but...I didn’t have money.”

Fuck, that hurt. 

If there is anyone who loved the band members more than anything, it was Mark. Mark Lee who cherished all of them more than his family members; Mark Lee who was always there for you when you needed him; Mark Lee who you’d run to to cry on.

But Mark Lee who was always a step behind everyone else.

“I was desperate for the cash, Jeno. So desperate that at one point, I even considered becoming a sex worker. But I knew it wouldn’t work out. I never had a face as pretty as Jaemin’s, or a body as attractive as yours, anyway. I...I just wanted to be on the same pace as everybody else _so bad_.”

They didn’t even end up joining the same college.

“Jen?” he hums.

“Yes...Mark?”

“Are you still in contact with the rest of the boys?”

Jeno casually looks down to his boots, shuffling his feet together. “No. You’re the only one I’ve seen in these past eight years.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but, you know the group chat?” Jeno smiles.

“The band group chat? Seven Hearts and a Dream?”

“Yeah, that one,” the younger man laughs. “Renjun sent a message through it asking if we want to meet up.”

Mark’s orbs instantly brighten. “Oh, really? Shall we go? Are you gonna go, Jeno?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go. How about you?”

“Of course I’m gonna go.” Mark’s lips quirk up into a bittersweet smile. “Just because it’s been a long time, doesn’t mean you guys aren’t my entire life anymore.” 

<>

  * AUGUST 6TH, 2020 ⌜11:51 AM⌟



“Dear passengers, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you. Flight attendants and cabin crew, please prepare for landing.”

Chenle’s thumb draws circles on Jisung’s hand, round and round.

They’re both looking out the aircraft’s window – at the white, wispy clouds flitting by and the occasional appearances of the bright blue sky.

“Jisung?” the older hums.

“Yeah?”

With his eyes still fixed on the window, he asks, “Why did you never call or text back?”

A loud whirring begins to pierce their ears as they feel the vehicle tip forward and head for ground.

Jisung tightens his hold on the latter’s hand, squeezing his palm. “We both knew it wouldn’t work out, Chenle.”

There’s a clunk as the plane’s wheels hit solid concrete.

Chenle turns to stare at the brunette with furrowed, hurt eyes. “You could’ve at least tried, Jisung! You could’ve at least made an effort!”

Jisung doesn’t answer nor look at the other man – just keeps his eyes on his hands as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

Chenle allows the words he’ve been holding in to spill down his tongue. “Did I not matter to you? Was I that easy to let go? Were _we_ that easy to let go? Without another look back?”

Jisung sighs, looking up into Chenle’s brimming eyes. 

He delicately holds both of the older's hands between his fingers. “Chenle, it doesn’t matter anymore. Baby, if it was easy for me to let you go, then it was even easier for me to fly eight thousand kilometres to you. For you. Chenle, can’t you see? I’m here now. And so are you. We're here together. And that’s all the matters, okay, love?” He kisses the back of Chenle’s palm. “Let’s have a nice day.”

Chenle takes a quivering breath in. 

“Okay,” he breathes out.

Jisung smiles.

“Dear Passengers, welcome to Incheon International Airport, South Korea."

<>

Jeno flops down onto the ragged and worn out couch and looks around the room.

Nothing of it has changed. 

Unlike the rest of the house, for some reason, Chenle’s parents have left the basement out of their recent renovation. 

It looks just like how they left it, just now a little more shabby and covered in a layer of dust.

Two drum sets, two electronic keyboards and a guitar encased in a black bag lay in the right side of the room. 

Renjun never bothered to bring his guitar home, always leaving it at Chenle’s, so he wouldn’t need to carry it back and forth for practices. Jeno guesses he didn’t bother to take it with him when they parted, either.

It’s such a small space, confined in four walls, but it brings uncountable memories rushing back so harshly Jeno feels out of breath.

“It’s been a while.”

Jeno leaves his thoughts and stares at the familiar group of faces before and beside him instead.

“How have you been doing, hyung? Well?” Chenle politely asks, slouched on an enormous bean bag with Jisung on the other side of the room.

It’s the same overwhelming emotion crashing into him again and again. Because Jeno can’t believe how much they’ve grown. He can’t believe how much all of them have grown. 

Eight years really is a long time. 

“I’ve been doing fine.”

“That’s good to hear, Jeno,” Donghyuck replies, lounging on another bean bag with Renjun by his side.

“Hey, guys. Do you remember...” Mark, seated beside the ravenette, lets out an amused laugh, “Do you guys remember our first little performance?”

Renjun chuckles, too. “Yukhei’s new year’s party. We played two songs before taking a rest. Then somebody decided it was a good idea to play beer pong and then we all got drunk. I don’t remember anything else after that, but somebody told me at some point through the night, Hyuck had played the Wii theme song on the keyboard,” Renjun snorts.

The brunette beside Renjun whines and Chenle lets out a high-pitched laugh.

And easily like that, it's just the same. It would be a normal occurrence eight years ago, right here in this basement, with the same stories and same laughs.

Jisung pipes up, “Wait, wasn’t that the night Mark and Donghyuck made out with each other?”

Chenle shrieks while Donghyuck aggressively glares. “That is something we agreed not to talk about.”

“It was a one-time thing, oh my god, Jisung” Mark groans, but lightly laughs right after.

“I drank so much that night.”

“We were young, weren’t we?”

“Hmm,” Mark hums, “Young and oblivious. Just like how we were supposed to be.”

They all sit there openly reminiscing their memories for a while. Jeno doesn’t know how much time has passed. It can be minutes; it can be hours. Completely immersed in talking about the past, they’ve all lost sense of time and the rest of the world. It’s just them and highschool and the band. 

And for a while, they were back to being the teenage boys who were always joyful and carefree, and who lived off of being in love.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeno sees Chenle tap his phone, and it lights up to display a black screen and white numbers plastered on it in the centre.

“Hey. Guys.”

Everyone’s attention is now on the Chinese male and his phone screen that he’s holding up. It presents a countdown, decreasing every second, presently showing ‘05:45:11’, indicating they only have less than six hours left.

Chenle continues, “Time is ticking. The sun’s about to set.”

They all whip their heads towards Jeno’s direction. 

Renjun sympathetically sighs, “Jeno?"

<>

  * AUGUST 6TH, 2020 ⌜07:38 PM⌟



“Anytime you’re ready.”

“As long as you need.”

Jeno already feels like crying. They have approximately five hours left to live, yet his friends, most he hasn’t seen in years, are willing to waste as much time as he needs.

They all stand beside him in a line, with Jeno in the middle holding a big bouquet of white tulips and Jisung with a guitar bag hanging from his shoulder. The rest are free from any belongings.

Jeno moves one step inside the big lawn and the others follow. He pauses to take a deep breath.

Mark gently places a hand on his back. “Take it easy, Jeno.” 

The ravenette sucks in another breath and steadily starts walking further in at a fast pace; because he can’t be wasting anymore of his friend’s time and because he shouldn't be so afraid to visit his most favourite person in the world.

Chenle, Jisung, Mark, Renjun and Donghyuck follow instantly, never a step ahead or behind, always beside.

The flood of headstones flow by in the gray sea until they stop in front of a familiar one under a cherry blossom tree.

Jeno kneels.

“My Jaemin.”

He places the white tulips, Jaemin’s favourite, on the grass in front of the headstone.

“My Nana."

Jeno’s eyes start to well up.

“My sweetheart, my love.”

“Jaemin, my angel.”

‘ _Jeno, my darling,_ ’ Jaemin would respond.

“My everything."

_'My forever.’_

A tear trickles down Jeno’s cheek.

“My star.”

 _‘And you’re my sky,’_ Jaemin would say.

“Without you, i’m bare.”

_‘Without you, i can’t shine.’_

“Miss you. Want you.”

 _‘All yours,’_ Jaemin would reply.

Jeno falls apart. 

He sobs and the tears don’t stop.

“Oh, Jeno!”

Donghyuck immediately runs and falls to his knees at Jeno’s side, taking him into his arms. The brunette presses a soft kiss on his forehead.

Jeno doesn’t say anything, just lets Donghyuck hold him as he shatters; just lets him intertwine their fingers and rub his back as he crumbles and breaks.

<>

  * AUGUST 6TH, 2020 ⌜11:58 PM⌟



Jeno has never been a religious person, but if it means being able to meet Jaemin again in whatever world after he passes away, then he’ll go on his knees and do whatever it takes.

All six boys are presently seated in a circle under the heavy sky holding millions of blazing stars.

With their hands clasped, under their breaths, they whisper their first and last prayers to any god that would listen.

<>

_“Oh my god, you two! Stop smooching on the couch and come practice already!”_

_Jaemin giggles into the ravenette’s lips before pulling away from the older boy._

_“Nana! We’re going to be performing your favourite song soon at this festival. Aren’t you excited?” Donghyuck chastises._

_“Of course I am! I’m coming!”_

_The pink-haired detaches himself away from Jeno and jogs over to the rest of the boys, leaving the older to run after him, both laughing all the while._

_Jaemin slides onto the seat behind the electronic keyboard while Jeno picks up his instrument and swings the guitar strap over his head, never taking his eyes off the younger._

_When the peach-haired boy catches his eye, the ravenette sends him a wink, which Jaemin blushes at and averts his orbs._

_Donghyuck presses the first chord on his keyboard and that alerts all of them. With his graceful fingers, Jaemin plays the next keys to harmonise with Donghyuck's._

_Jeno strums exactly two chords on his acoustic instrument before Jisung follows, precisely flicking his wrist on his electric guitar, the smooth melodies filling the air and their ears._

_Chenle leans into his mic, and in 1, 2, 3._

**Not even they can stop me now**

**Boy, I be flying overhead**

_Jaemin and Donghyuck bend in closer to their respective microphones before singing and blending their harmonising voices together._

_Jeno has heard it a thousand times, but it has never stopped feeling like heaven._

**Their heavy words can’t bring me down**

**Boy, I’ve been raised from the dead**

_Mark whoops before bringing a stick down onto one of his drums and starts the beat._

_Jisung’s chords get higher-pitched as his hands move swiftier across the fretboard and he strums the strings harder in enthusiasm._

**No one even knows how hard life was**

**I don’t even think about it now because**

_Jeno glances around at his friends all happily playing their instruments._

_He looks at Donghyuck – Donghyuck who’s been through so much at such a young age, yet still cares to be bright and positive around them; then Renjun, who is always so kind and patient, no matter how many mistakes, and how many times you make them. His eyes flick to Mark – Mark_ _who loves all of them more than he loves anything else in the world, more than his family, more than himself; then to Chenle who always tries his best in no matter what he does, who tries so hard most of the time it’s enough for the seven of them. He turns to Jisung – Park Jisung who is the youngest, yet who Jeno admires the most; Park Jisung who never cares about what anyone else thinks or says, who knows what to prioritise well, who knows what should be sacrificed, no matter how difficult it is to; Park Jisung who lets go of things easily._

_Then his eyes land on Jaemin, and a small smile graces his lips._

_Na Jaemin who is the love of his life._

**I’ve finally found you**

_The drums loudly roll._

**Oh, sing it to me**

**Now my life is sweet like cinnamon**

**Like a fucking dream I'm living in**

**Baby, love me ‘cause I'm playing on the radio**

**Pick me up and take me like a vitamin**

**'Cause my body's sweet like sugar venom, oh yeah**

**Baby love me cause I'm playing on the radio**

<>

**American Dreams came true somehow**

Jeno is soft and gentle with the lyrics, letting it daintily drip down his tongue.

**I swore I’d chase ‘em till I was dead**

The midnight moon delicately shines out onto the cemetery and the seven boys sitting under the cherry blossom tree. 

Jeno doesn’t need to look at his fingers to know he’s correctly playing the chords of eight years ago. Jeno hasn’t forgotten them after all.

The tunes ring out clearly in the dead space as Jeno slowly picks the strings of his guitar.

Chenle and Donghyuck harmonise to sing the next line.

**I heard the streets were paved with gold**

**That’s what my father said**

As they go into the pre-chorus, there is no lively beat to accompany the guitar chords; Jeno’s mellow, sorrowful notes just keep filling the air.

They’re singing the same song, with the same people of eight years ago, except the song is much sadder now and one of them is six foot underground.

**No one even knows what life was like**

Jeno doesn’t want to know how much time he has left.

**Now I'm in LA and it's paradise**

**I've finally found you**

**Oh, sing it to me**

**Now my life is sweet like cinnamon**

**Like a fucking dream I'm living in**

**Baby love me cause I'm playing on the radio**

Jisung’s phone glints in the moonlight.

**Pick me up and take me like a vitamin**

**'Cause my body's sweet like sugar venom oh yeah**

**Baby love me 'cause I'm playing on the radio**

00:00:55

**Sweet like cinnamon**

**Like a fucking dream I'm living in**

**Baby love me 'cause I'm playing on the radio**

**Sweet like cinnamon**

**Like a fucking dream I'm living in**

**I've finally found you**

They end the song ringing the last word before softening it and letting it slip away.

00:00:40

Jeno takes off the strap around his shoulder, softly putting the instrument down on the green grass.

“Less than a minute,” Jeno whispers with his eyes fixed on the ground.

00:00:30

“I love you all. So much.”

When the ravenette looks up he can see that Mark’s crying.

The tears rolling down his cheek look like crystals.

00:00:15

Renjun scoots closer to Mark and without a word, everyone else silently huddles up together and engulf each other in a group hug.

Donghyuck is pressed close into the junction of Renjun’s shoulder and neck, while Chenle and Jisung snuggle up into the warmth and Jeno and Mark wordlessly rub soothing circles on the others’ backs. 

Crystalline teardrops adorn their saddened faces. 

And in that moment, they aren’t Donghyuck, Renjun, Mark, Jisung, Chenle and Jeno anymore. It doesn’t even feel like they’re humans anymore.

They’re just six existences gravelling for their last breaths – gravelling for their last feelings of life before they can’t anymore. 

Yet the only thing they need to do is breathe. 

Why is it so difficult and depressing to just _breathe_?

00:00:03

Renjun tenderly presses his last kiss on Donghyuck’s lips while Jisung pecks Chenle’s forehead.

00:00:02

When did Jeno give Jaemin his last kiss?

Jeno loves them all very much in their own unique ways. 

But as he’s enveloped in this warm hug, he can’t help but wish that Jaemin was here with him as well, in his arms. God, he misses him so much.

Jeno doesn’t think he’s ever gotten over Jaemin’s death. He loved him too much to completely let go of him. But that’s okay. 

Because Jeno knows that if Jaemin was here, he would’ve loved him just as much, too.

00:00:01

Right now, Jeno’s just glad he has his friends. 

Right now, more than anything, he’s just glad he’s not alone anymore.

00:00:00

Everyone sees black.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> For reference, I recommend you listen to the original song, 'Radio' by Lana Del Rey for the flashback scene and take a look at Conan Gray's cover of it for the cemetery scene.
> 
> Once again, I thank everyone for taking time out of their day to read my writing. Feedback would be appreciated!
> 
> I hope you all have a great day/night!!


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